


come home to my heart

by timefornothing



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Stony - Freeform, break up to make up, civil war didn't happen because fuck you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 13:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20778977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timefornothing/pseuds/timefornothing
Summary: Tony could have sworn he had it right. Finally, this time, they had gotten it right. They made it work. But the fact of the matter is this:When Tony got down on one knee, Steve said no.And now he can't figure out what went wrong.





	come home to my heart

**Author's Note:**

> major shoutout to supercut by lorde for the inspo *chef's kiss*

"Failure."

"Failure."

"Failure."

_"Dammit!"_

With a violent swipe of his hand, Tony sent the hologram whirling away, off to some corner of his lab. The sparking robotics experiment laid in front of him on the table, smoking lightly from the latest attempt. He'd been in the lab for three days now trying to work on this harebrained idea, but no matter what he tried, it wasn't working.

_"Well, you can't just quit on something good."_

Grimacing, Tony turned back to the screen, running his eyes over the numbers again and refusing to think about that train of thought. That was definitely not why he'd been in the lab for so long. It really wasn't why he hadn't slept in those three days, running on nothing but coffee and some granola bars he found shoved behind his computer, totally not the reason he couldn't stop staring at 05-22 like it meant something because it didn't it didn't--

"Get out of my head, Rogers," he growled, and to his annoyance, he heard Jarvis light up behind him.

"Did you ask me to call Mr. Rogers, sir?"

"No, Jarvis, you know I didn't," Tony replied, forcing his eyes to look at a different line of code. 

"It's been three days since you've heard from him," Jarvis reminded him cheerfully, prompting Tony to mutter, "Don't I know it."

He hated fighting before missions, he really did, but Tony couldn't stop himself this time, he really couldn't. And to be fair, it seemed like Steve had been all too ready to argue, that self-righteous asshole with stars for brains. Like some sort of old movie, the fight played again in his head, flickering in beat with the pounding of his heart.

"Too soon?" Tony had gone sweeping around the large island in the middle of the kitchen dramatically, leaving Steve to stare at him from across it. "How on Earth could we possibly be doing this too soon? It's only been five years, for chrissakes. What, you want to wait for double digits?"

"To be fair, we haven't even really been together for most of that--" Steve started to argue, but Tony barreled over him, louder and quicker.

"Do we wait for our parent's approval? The president's? Do we need to send out some international query into whether the world approves of this happening?"

"That's not what I meant and you know--"

"I don't know what I know, Rogers!" Tony interrupted again, finally stilling and staring down the blond man across from him. "I thought I knew! I thought I knew this was right. That I wanted this. That I wanted you. But now I'm not so sure!"

Silence hung in the air between them for a moment, Steve's eyes slowly going wide. His eyebrows lowered minutely, but enough that Tony could see the shadows grow over those impossibly thick lashes.

"Tony, you don't mean that." His voice was quiet, but it carried weight, like everything he did.

Tony stared back, angry and impossible and eyes shining. "Don't I?"

Again, the silence. Tony hated the silence in their fights. He could handle the yelling, he could handle the pacing, the impassioned hand waving, the arguing that left him hoarse. He was good at that, he could do that. But the silence? The silence was the worst.

Steve looked down at his feet, his stupid red boots that Tony designed, then back up at him. Once more, his voice was barely heard from that distance. "I have to go."

"You're going to leave? Now?" Tony let out a bitter laugh. "You really think you should just blow off this conversation for some little trip?"

Steve rolled his eyes, finally growing angry, and Tony felt a little flare of victory. "Hardly a trip, Tony. There's a HYDRA team attacking the base in Accra. We can't just let that go because of some squabble!"

"Oh, a squabble? Is that all this is? Five years and I get down on one knee, and when you say no, that's just a _squabble?"_

"I didn't say--"

"No, by all means!" Tony threw his hands in the air again, voice raising. "Go ahead! Go save Accra! But if you walk out that door, then this is done. It's over."

Steve stared at the floor for a long moment. Then, with a heavy drop of his shoulders, he turned to walk towards the door. Tony watched him go, in shock. He wanted to yell, he wanted to scream, to throw things, but now it was his turn to sit in silence. 

Two hours later, the comms had gone down, and Tony had seen the reports about how the Quinjet had been shot out of the sky, exploding before it even reached the city. He turned the news off, went down to his lab, and hadn't come out since.

And it was ridiculous, he knew, but he refused to think any harder about that news report. He refused to think about why so many of the team members had been calling, instead having Jarvis redirect all of them to Natasha. Since he wasn't thinking about that, instead it was Steve on his mind. His brain was full of stars and spangles and stupid blue spandex suits when instead it should be focusing on this dumb robot.

It was impossible not to think about him. Not when his entire existence had been so wrapped up in Steve Steve Steve for the past five years. Ever since the old man had been pulled out of the ice, he'd been on Tony's mind, in just about every way he could be. Their first meeting on the Helicarrier, the fight in New York when he had woken back up to Steve's blue eyes above him.

And that was when it had gone downhill, really, hadn't it?

Those blue eyes. He had looked for them in every SHIELD meeting, in every Avenger's gathering, constantly around the tower. He was always looking for Steve: to ask him something, to improve his armor, to pick a fight, always to fight. They argued constantly, bickered over anything, nagged at each other until the rest of the team was screaming at them to give it a rest. Somewhere along the line the barbs had turned pointed, the sentences Tony said aimed perfectly, made directly to rile Steve up, to see that pink blush flash across his cheeks.

He still remembered clear as day that night when Steve grabbed him after a meeting, backed him against a wall, held onto his wrist so tight he had a bruise for the next three hours. 

Steve never knew his own strength, never knew how strong he was, never knew how much he was capable of. 

"Why?" Steve had asked, blue eyes piercing into his own, searching for answers. "Why do you always do that?"

So Tony gave him the only explanation he had, really.

It was one of the most awkward kisses of his life, given that it ended in a blubbering Steve backing away with a bitten lip and messed up hair, muttering something about having to check a hangar, leaving Tony panting and warm and so warm up against the wall. Yet Steve had found him again a day later, in almost the same place as before, and Tony had much better bruises to accompany that first set after that one.

Much like his current experiment, he and Steve had continued. Across continents, during missions, in board meetings, in quiet moments in the tower, they had continually run into each other, sparking over and over again. They had gotten together somehow after a month of doing that--Tony still blames the whiskey from Thor--and then broken up two weeks after, citing something about work stress. (Tony's fault.) Then they were back together, then apart again. (Steve's fault, that time. He didn't know if he was ready.) 

Together, apart.

Together, apart.

Failure.

Failure.

Failure.

But this time...this time, Tony thought they finally had it. In his head, he had finally done everything right. Sure, they argued, but they always made up. They both were making efforts to compromise with each other, now that they knew how the other worked, what got them both upset. They did things for each other. Tony included Steve in Stark business whenever he could, just to make more of an effort to spend time with him, and Steve made Tony small gifts. 

One of them sat on his desk, even now. Tony reached over and picked up the glass box, jaw growing tight as he looked down at it. 

Dragged to one of Tony's endless meetings, Steve had sat at the side of the room, patient and supportive as ever. Somewhere during hour two, Tony had glanced over his shoulder and noticed Steve fiddling with something, but couldn't tell what it was. When the meeting finally ended, Steve stood, a proud little smirk on his face as Tony came over.

"What?" Tony glanced down at himself, then back up. "Impressed with how I went that whole meeting without falling asleep and spilling coffee all over me?"

"No," he sighed patiently, then held his hand out. "I made you something." With a confused brow lift, Tony held his hand out, looking down as something surprisingly light hit his palm.

"This is...a paper horse?" he asked, confused.

"No, Tony." Steve smiled though, pocketing a hand. "It's an origami llama. And, according to this website I had the Google pull up, they symbolize endurance under difficult situations."

"Oh, haha, I get it." Tony leveled him with an annoyed look. "You sitting here was impossible, very funny, Rogers. You know, you would be the grandpa to use a Stark tablet to pull up origami how-to's." With a fond eye roll, Steve leaned in to kiss him, effectively ending anything else Tony was even thinking about saying. 

They had it right, this time. They compromised. They talked things out. They spent whenever they could together, yet gave each other the space he needed. Every passionate night, every lazy morning, every near death experience on a mission, every stupid moment that used to frustrate him so--he loved Steve through all of it. And Steve loved him, he said so. Steve Rogers admitted it!

The first time Captain America told Tony he loved him was on accident at the end of a phone call in front of the entire team. No one had ever let him live it down.

The second time was in between bites of a hot dog at some rickety old stadium Steve had taken him to for a 'real date.'

The third time was in their bed, Steve still covered in sweat and breathless as he mumbled it into Tony's neck.

The fourth I love you was the next morning as Tony woke up to coffee in bed.

The fifth, sixth, tenth, hundredth times.

Every time, he remembered every time, could count them all and play them in his head over and over again in one massive supercut, painted in gold and framed for posterity. Steve had loved him, Steve _did_ love him.

But did he?

They were in the kitchen, Steve just back from some mission he and Banner had went on down in South America. He had barely caught his breath, holding on tightly to a mug of tea Tony had made him and smiling that perfect grin and looking at him with the barest hint of a dimple. He smelled like sweat and smoke and cement and his eyes were tired but oh so blue and it had just slipped out.

"Marry me."

Steve stopped. The grin froze in the middle of his face, and Tony almost believed he had stopped time for a moment. But then Steve was lowering the mug, the smile was fading, asking, "What?"

"Um. Marry me." Tony tried to recover quickly. "I have a ring. It's--it's actually down in my lab, I was carving the date of the first time you said you loved me in it, but I have it, I have had it. I've had it. For a long time, now."

Silence. The first of all the silent moments that day. When it broke, Tony couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Are you sure?"

He snorted, watching Steve carefully, immediately on guard. "Of course I'm sure, Rogers. Didn't you hear what I was saying? I'm carving--"

"No, no. I--" Steve set the mug down, panic clearly showing in his eyes. "Are you sure it's not too soon?"

After that, all bets were off. The fight exploded out of Tony, yells ripping themselves from some sore spot he didn't know he still had in his chest. He didn't stop, not even when Steve asked him to, not even when the alarm had gone off, not even when he didn't know why he was still arguing anymore.

Sitting down in the lab now, he didn't know why he had even bothered. Clearly, Steve didn't actually love him. Obviously Steve wasn't serious about this. Why would he be? After all, they'd only been together for a little over two years this time around, why would that even matter at all when they couldn't ever get it right before?

Tear drops fell on the glass, and Tony reached up to wipe his face. When had he even started crying? He tossed the box aside, furiously wiping at his traitorous eyes like that was going to stop them from leaking. _Why was he even crying? What was the use?_

"What's even the _point?"_ he shouted, face in his hands as his shoulders heaved. 

"Tony?"

He jumped, spinning around wildly. Heart pounding in his ears, he saw Steve standing at the entrance to his lab, helmet in his hands and dirt on his boots like he had literally just gotten back home. His brows were drawn together in concern, standing frozen in spot, like he was unsure if he could walk any further.

"Does nobody knock anymore?" Tony huffed out, then sniffed loudly, turning away and wiping at his face again. In seconds, he heard the pounding of boots rushing across the floor, and by the next time he had blinked, strong arms were around him, pulling him out of his chair and up into a desperate kiss.

It stole the air from his chest, being kissed that hard, and when Steve finally pulled back, Tony realized why.

Steve was crying, too.

"The hell happened to you?" Tony couldn't help but ask, and Steve only shook his head, not even registering Tony's sarcastic tone.

"I didn't think about anything else the whole way there. The entire time, I was thinking about how stupid I was, how I should have just said yes. When that plane went down, I couldn't do it again, I--I should have--I was too late, again. I should have said yes, Tony, I don't know what I was thinking. And then the rest of the time, after I lived, I couldn't--I didn't know if you'd even want me back, if you'd even want this anymore. And I just kept kicking myself for being so stupid, wondering how I could have ever asked that when I've literally had a ring for you since the first go round, and I can't believe--"

"Hold on hold on hold on. Hold on." Tony interrupted him, bringing one hand up to wave about in Steve's face and get him to stop. Once he had his attention, Tony repeated, "You have a ring for me?"

Despite the situation and the tears and both of them looking like hot messes to the extreme, Steve blushed. It was light, just barely pink, but it was still there. And just like that, something in Tony quieted. Something that had been ticking away in worry for three days straight finally stopped, faded away.

"...yeah. Yes. I've had a ring for you since the first time we--we dated," Steve told him, then pursed his lips. "I know that seems really fast, especially for me, but I was so sure, but then we kept fighting, and I didn't--"

"You didn't know if you could make it work with me," Tony finished for him, and Steve shook his head instantly.

"No! God, no, Tony. Never. I'd do anything to make it work with you. I just didn't really think you'd want to be with me for the rest of your life. You know, since. We fight. A lot." He sighed, looking down. "I always felt too lucky to have someone as incredible as you by my side. Asking for more just felt…"

"Like it was too good to be true?" Tony tried again, and Steve nodded with that characteristic bashful smile of his.

"Yeah. That."

Tony watched him for a moment, chest lightening with every breath in. All that worry from the last three days...it didn't matter anymore. It was like Steve said, they always made it work. Always.

"Marry me."

Steve looked up, that same sort of panic on his face. With a nervous voice, he asked, "Are you going to kill me if I ask you if you're sure again?"

Tony smiled, because this time he knew why. He knew what Steve was really asking about, what he really wanted to know if Tony was sure about.

"I've never been more sure in my life."

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr at asahiwasabi!


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